Holy Land Pilgrimage: Day 5

Friday, May 5, 2023

Bethlehem ... not such a little town
anymore.

I’m sitting on my hotel balcony in Bethlehem, looking across the lights of a very hilly city (think San Francisco), hearing the call of the muezzin to bedtime prayers, and enjoying the full moon.

Security checkpoint between Israeli
and Palestinian territory.

We left the Sea of Galilee early this morning and drove south though the Jordan River Valley, seeing and hearing the history of conflict here. The nation of Jordan is just across the water, of course, and security fencing runs all along the way as you drive to the traditional site where John the Baptist got his name, baptizing Jesus “to fulfill all righteousness,” as Matthew’s Gospel says (3:15). When Jesus and the crowds came out to hear John and wade in the water, they had no land mines to navigate (at least not literal ones). Now, as you approach the site of this pivotal moment in our salvation, you make your way through a checkpoint and note the yellow signs warning of buried ordnance. My first thought was, “What must Jesus think of all this?” I imagined a divine face-plant.

But amid the depressing evidence of human brokenness, God gets the last word. Across the narrow river, very close to the soaked pilgrims on the Israeli side of the river, pilgrims from Jordan were coming to do just the same thing, making their own commitment to renounce the powers of evil and follow Jesus as their Lord. Living all this out on “our” side of the river were large groups from Romania and Thailand, reveling in their anointing with the balm of Gilead. The Romanians wore long, white baptismal t-shirts over their swimming suits (today’s version of white robes) as they frolicked in the water of life. The Thai pilgrims stood on the bank praying, ending their brief worship by singing “Amazing Grace” in their language. 

A different security force.

Israeli security forces at the site
of the Baptism of Jesus.

Supposedly presiding over all this, and the movement of hundreds of other pilgrims, were two Israeli soldiers bearing rifles. But presiding over the soldiers were two white doves. They swooped through the site for a bit before coming to rest just above the young men in their fatigues.
It was another good reminder that “God’s got skills.” Oh, and that Jesus really is Lord.

At the border between Israeli and 
Palestinian land.

On the bus, we listened to our guide, Rayna, giving the history of Israel – 4,000 years in 20 minutes. She also reflected, like Fr. Nael yesterday, on what it’s like to be an Arab Christian in Israel. She isn’t an Israeli citizen but Jordanian instead, with security papers allowing her to travel in and out of Tel Aviv’s airport (and through highway checkpoints). One’s language speaks volumes. She was careful to describe the wall dividing Israel from the Palestinian territory as “the Separation Wall, or, as the Israelis call it, the Security Wall.” Both are true, from what I’ve read: The wall impedes the lives and livelihoods of the Palestinians terribly, and the number of bombings in Israel has decreased. As with everything here, there is no easy answer.

Speaking of which, one of the pilgrims asked a great question: “Wait; I thought we were supposed to be on the side of the Jews. After all, the U.S. has supported Israel for a long time now.” There was opportunity to reflect on the world in 1948, when Harry Truman and many other leaders devoutly believed the Jews deserved a homeland after the Holocaust. There was opportunity to reflect on the troubling manifestation of human brokenness that can make those who've been persecuted turn into persecutors themselves. And there was opportunity to reflect on American Evangelical Christian theology (and political power) that sees a historical necessity for Israel to be a sovereign nation, and for the Jewish Temple to be rebuilt on the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, before Jesus will return in glory. That need for the Temple to be rebuilt and inhabited by “the lawless one” is based on 2 Thessalonians chapter 2, if you want to find the weak scriptural warrant for American foreign policy that supports Israel occupying Jerusalem and the West Bank. Unfortunately, given the need to keep on schedule, the pilgrim’s good question got just a quick acknowledgement of how complicated all this is. For us, this is interesting historical and theological reflection. For Ranya, it could be a matter of life and death. She asked us explicitly, as she began teaching about Israel’s history, not to record her so we wouldn’t post anything that might bring her harm.

The Mount of Temptation and 
the camel who didn't seem
tempted at all.

Back to the daily report. We passed through another checkpoint to visit Jericho and see an ancient sycamore tree – not “the” tree that Zacchaeus climbed to see Jesus as he walked through Jericho on his way to Jerusalem, but one certainly old enough to count. We also saw the Mountain of Temptation, the peak where tradition says Satan took Jesus and tempted him with power and dominion over all the kingdoms of the earth. If only now we could follow Jesus’ lead and decline the will to power….

Nearby, we visited an overlook giving a view of the “road” from Jericho to Jerusalem, the route Jesus had in mind when telling the parable of the Good Samaritan. The setting is as unforgiving as the bandits who lurked along the way. It’s as desolate a landscape as landscapes come – think every American Western where people are dying of thirst and being attacked by other people hiding among the boulders above them. And, Jesus says, even when you’re in a setting that challenges you simply to survive, think about the person you’re passing who has it worse than you – and act to help. (In the video, the dots of trees in the center of the image mark where the "road" ran through the wadi.)

Detail of the raising of Lazarus ... and 
the "stench."

Next was a stop at Bethany, home to Jesus’ friends Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. We visited the church honoring these three and honoring Jesus for raising Lazarus from death. This is the fourth church on this site, continuing the pattern of churches built, and destroyed, and rebuilt, and destroyed, and rebuilt again. The modern version of this one was designed to feel like a tomb, with only one entrance, no windows, and the only light diffused through a translucent roof. 

The tomb of Lazarus.

A bit up the street is Lazarus’ tomb. I was late leaving the church, and I thought the rest of the group had headed to the tomb. So, I went up the street, found the tomb, and was a bit annoyed by a man outside asking for $2 to get in. I understood why when I snaked down the narrow, slippery stairs to the tomb and crawled through the four-foot-high passageway from the anteroom into the tomb chamber. The group hadn’t come here, and for good reason, given the stairs and the crawling. So, I sheepishly paid the guy his $2 and just as sheepishly rejoined the group at the bus.

From Bethany, we drove to Bethlehem. If you look up the drive on Google Maps, it says 13 miles. But you have to come out of Palestinian territory, through Israeli territory, and back into Palestinian territory over those 13 miles, and we were diverted because of a closed checkpoint – so the drive was something like 90 minutes. For us, it was an annoyance at the end of a long day of riding in a tour bus. For the Palestinians who live on the wrong side of the wall, it’s a way of life.